Beautiful Dirty Girl
by LovelySunshine
Summary: When the person you once thought of as your hero, is the one hurting you, who do you tell? Warning: Deals with rape.


A/N: This story deals with rape. Not going to lie its not for the faint hearted. It also may contain some errors but I don't have a beta and its almost four in the morning here so I'm kind of out of it. You have been warned.

**I do not own anything except the plot. It all belongs to Stephanie Meyer. **

"Beautiful Dirty Girl"

I wish I could just forget. I wish I wouldn't have to remember. The feel of his hands on my skin. His voice in my ear. Telling me to relax that it will feel good. But it doesn't. It hurts. It hurts when he grab my hands. It hurts when he rips off my dress. It hurts when he clamps his hand over my mouth to silence my screams.

He tells me to be quiet; he doesn't want anyone to hear. _Slap!_ He just hit me. Tells me to shut up. To be a good girl and listen. If I would listen he wouldn't have to hit me. He tells me how pretty I am. That it would be a shame to mess up such a pretty face. I know he's lying. I will never be pretty. I'm to dirty and ruined to ever be considered pretty. He pulls down my underwear. I try to yell for help. His hand is still over my mouth the scream comes out muffled. I try biting him. He growls and then softly whispers in my ear " You'll pay for that. He hits me again, on the same side of my face as before. I can feel the bruise forming already. Fuck how am I going to explain that one? He's usually so careful not to bruise me where people can see. I can feel him slip his hand in between my legs. Touching me. I close my eyes, squeezing them. Wishing for it to be over already. He's whispering in my ear again. I can smell the beer he drank earlier. There he goes again, telling me how hard I make him, how it's my fault anytime I'm around he loses all control that am such a fuckin tease.

He grabs my hand making me touch him, making me squeeze him, he moans right in my ear and I swallow back the vile that's risen up my throat. And now he's kissing me. Everywhere he can while telling me how good I'm being. I haven't screamed since he last hit me. I want to. So fuckin badly. But I now if I do I'll just earn another slap. He's rubbing himself on me. I hate this part. It hurts. He made me bleed once. He always says that I'm so warm and tight. But his words are lost on me. He moans again and the tears start streaming down my face silently, I now better then to make noise.

I look up at him silently pleading with him not to do this, to just let me go. But he doesn't. I turn my face away locking my gaze on the door, wishing someone would open the door. But I know it's not possible. The door is locked making escape impossible. It's not like I could even if I tried, it would just be worse, I learned that the first time. He's still whispering but I ignore him.

He pushes into me and I start singing. Not out loud. Never out loud. For silence is truly golden in this situation. One thrust _"Na na nanita na na nanita"_ second thrust, _" Mi nina tiene suenos bendito se a"_ it's the old nursery rhyme my mom use to sing to me. I can almost hear her singing it if I try hard enough. I miss her singing; I miss her being happy. He's grunting going faster, and my tears are still falling; though I'm trying to stop them. He hates it when I cry; says it messes up my pretty face. The movements are getting even faster and rougher. I'm still singing. He's swearing now and I know it's almost over. Thank God.

Sure enough just as I sing the last line, he cums with a loud "fuck!" He's breathing hard and I just lay there motionless. He gets up and pulls on his pants and then walks toward the door. He stops, turns around and tells me how good I was and to hurry up. People will start wondering where the birthday girl went. I sit up hating this part, knowing that am covered in his sweat I swallow the vile again. There's no time for a shower this time. Like he said people will start wondering where the birthday girl is. I hear the door open and close and I take a big breath in and then let it out. I pick up my once pristine dress, now wrinkled, and put it on. I know I should be used to this already. I know better then to cry by now, it's not worth it. This has been my life since the age of seven, the daily routine as I refer to it. The cycle that is my life. I look in the mirror and make sure that my hair is in place. I wince. My eyes are red and puffy from crying. The only reminder of what just happened. I hate mirrors. I hate looking at the reflection of myself. I laugh. That's not me. I will never be me again. I turn and walk toward the door, reaching it and opening it. Knowing that I will never escape this. For this is my life and I will always be nothing more then his " Beautiful Dirty Girl."

A/N: So I had this floating around my head for a while now. I wrote it down and never really gave it much thought to post it on here. Then my friend read it and it made her cry and she encouraged me to post it somewhere. So I thought to myself well hey I spend way too much time on here I might as well post it here. And as we can see it's a little tweaked an obviously non-canon seeing as Bella doesn't speak Spanish. As for how I came up with this story, well all I can say is that its pretty personal to me. But if you have any questions feel free to PM me and I will answer them. This story isn't meant to glorify rape in anyway. For some reason someone read it and they came to that conclusion. I have no idea how. Again if you have any questions PM me. So all that's left to do is review! Go on do it! You know you want to! Just no flaming please.


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